


the way we might have been

by astralis



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-18 03:48:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14845127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astralis/pseuds/astralis
Summary: Not so much a missing scene from 'getting better all the time' but a different outcome of a fork in the road. In which Kaitlyn and Andrew (but mostly Andrew) make a different decision following Worlds in 2014.





	the way we might have been

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [getting better all the time](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5022952) by [astralis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/astralis/pseuds/astralis). 



> Those of you who have read 'getting better all the time' might remember (it was a long time ago) that in that story K&A decided to give up dancing around the subject and make a go of their relationship (again) after Worlds in 2014, when they won their first world medal.
> 
> The original plan was for things to go somewhat differently, and I had most of this written before I decided to pull the plug on that storyline. One reason was that it made no narrative sense for them not to go for it, and the other was that it would create a detour that I didn't want to waste time on before things got back on track.
> 
> I think removing these scenes (I only added about 1500 words) was the biggest case of Kill Your Darlings I've ever had as a writer. A couple of months ago I found them again, still really liked them, and decided I might as well do something with them. I'm not sure how well this stands on its own but anyway, here's some of my favourite stuff that I couldn't bear to delete entirely.

He went down to breakfast the morning after the silver medal, after all of the champagne that came from hanging out with Kaitlyn, a residual headache reminding him of its presence from time to time, and found Kaitlyn, wide awake and a ray of sunshine, having breakfast with Valentina. “I’ve got an idea,” Kaitlyn said, as Andrew stumbled and fell into the seat beside her. All he could think about was kissing her and he wasn’t really up to coping with ideas at this hour of the morning. 

“He’s asleep,” Valentina said, critically, apparently agreeing with Andrew’s assessment of himself. “You maybe should wake him up first.”

“No, because this way he’ll agree with me. Right, Andrew?”

“Depends,” Andrew said. It seemed like a safe answer, and he wanted a hug. Or a kiss.

“I think we should go to Italy this year.”

“What for?”

“For a holiday, silly. Tell him, Vale.”

“Kaitlyn thinks you should go to Italy this year.”

Andrew found the water on the table and drank it. The ice cubes at least went some way to waking him up but what he really needed was coffee. “Italy?”

“Yeah. Think about it. It’s something different than we’ve ever done, and Vale knows some places where we can stay cheap.”

“Italy,” Andrew said again. He thought about it. “Rome?”

“Maybe. But Capri, really. Think of the sea. And old buildings and culture and the atmosphere and… yeah.”

“Yeah,” Andrew said, not sure if he was teasing her or not. “Okay.” His thoughts caught up to everything else. “Yeah. That sounds good. See? I’m awake now and I still agree with you.”

“That’s because you’re smart.”

“Thank you.”

Kaitlyn laughed and leaned against him, just for a second. “Thank _you_.”

“What for?”

“I really want this,” she said, quietly.

Valentina was looking away.

“I know,” Andrew said. “Me too.” He pictured a sea, the Mediterranean he’d never seen, blue and endless and sparkling in the summer sun, and _her_ , in a bikini, kissing him on a strange beach. 

He’d like that very much.

“Good.”

They had to get through gala practice and the gala and the banquet and then the whole talking thing and Stars on Ice and any summer holiday was a long, long way away yet. For a moment, Andrew wished them both there and then he blinked and cleared away the image and someone was waiting to take his breakfast order.

*

The conversation came at home, over breakfast and the toast that Andrew could barely taste. Kaitlyn broached the question, delicate, even awkward, as she pulled her own toast to tatters. And all he could think of, sitting there, looking at her beautiful face, was how happy she’d been when she cradled her silver medal in her hands, and how badly things had gone the last time they did this.

He asked for a raincheck, trying to focus on the medals and not on her face falling or on the twisting ache in his gut, on his desperate wish to take back the words as soon as he said them. But then it was too late; she was pushing back her chair and disappearing into her bedroom and playing Taylor Swift, loud, and all Andrew could do, sitting there alone for hours, was beg the universe to make the medals she deserved keep on coming so that they could tell themselves that keeping their relationship on pause a little longer was the right thing to do.

*

Their world went on. It was illuminated by their silver medal and lit by the slowly fading glow of the Olympics, and they didn’t talk about much else. Spring thought about turning into summer as they traipsed across the country with Stars on Ice, from the sea air smell of Halifax to the familiar shadow of the CN Tower, to the bustle of the Forks and the rushing clarity of the Bow River until they finally wound up, tired but alive, on the West Coast.

A Song for You had become better than expected and less painful than he’d imagined. Some of the cast had raised a few eyebrows the first time they’d seen it in practice and then again when they performed it for the first time, had made a few jokes and whispered a bit. Andrew had wanted, the first time and every time since, to tell his friends that if it felt real then he and Kaitlyn were doing their jobs but he’d kept his mouth firmly closed and just tried not to imagine what it would be like to cross the last few inches of their ending pose.

He’d tried not to think about it much at all, in fact, and he liked to think that he was succeeding.

If Kaitlyn was saying anything about it to the others he wouldn’t have a clue. Things had settled down somewhat into a world resembling what they’d had before, but in the middle of the jumbled Ontario leg of the tour, when everyone was exhausted, he found her backstage after the meet and greet, curled up in Eric’s lap with her head on his shoulder. On their free afternoon in Winnipeg she disappeared and he had to find out from Joannie that she’d gone to the art gallery with Tessa without even asking if he wanted to come with. At a bar in Calgary she danced with Patrick and Scott and Jeff, but not with him. In Kelowna, on their day off, they went their separate ways without even a text message all day.

It hurt. It hurt like a kick in the balls or a knife to the gut. Sochi seemed a million light years in the past and Capri an impossible future, and the here and now wasn’t bad but it was different and he didn’t really know how to deal with that.

It was, after all, his fault.

Vancouver put on the sunshine for them, which was kind of it. Andrew woke up on the last morning ready to go home, fed up with his friends and touring and the weird distance he and Kaitlyn had discovered off the ice. Tonight wasn’t just another outing of A Song for You, it was the triumphant last appearance of Maria, the breaking of another tenuous tie to Sochi and their Olympic season, and he was both ready to face it and reluctant to get it over with.

Andrew got out of bed. He had, somehow, been lucky enough to score a room with a glimpse of the Burrard Inlet when you stood in the right spot, and where his feet landed when he got up happened to be the right spot. The patch he could see was calm, unbroken by cargo ship or Seabus, and if water could speak then this bit of it was singing to him.

He knew someone who would see it the same way.

Before he could consider his sanity or lack thereof Andrew grabbed his phone and texted Kaitlyn. _Are you awake?_

_IDK_

He’d take that as a yes. _Come for a walk?_

It seemed a long time before she replied, but at least it gave him the chance to regret his actions ten times over. _Meet out the front in half an hour?_

_OK._

He was there in twenty, and so was she. The morning light suited her; her cheeks were pink and her hair was gleaming and somehow the world felt clean and right and _better_. “Did you have a plan?” she asked, looking up at him as together they stepped aside and out of the way of morning commuters. 

“Kind of. Breakfast? My treat.”

“You know the way to my heart. I… probably shouldn’t say things like that, should I?”

“Say whatever you like.”

He didn’t have anything particular in mind other than that it had to be on the Inlet. They walked without talking, side by side, and emerged from the shadows of the skyscrapers just down from Canada Place.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Kaitlyn broke the silence, talking to herself or maybe, possibly, to him. “I love Toronto and it’s home but then you just see this - the water and the mountains and the trees - I know how people could live here. To see this every day - do you think you’d get bored of it?”

Maybe she was talking to him. “I’d be worried I might start taking it for granted.”

They crossed the street amid a rush of foot traffic aiming for Waterfront Station and the Seabus but then got to peel themselves off, away from the crowd, and meander down towards the water. Ahead of them lay Stanley Park and the masts of the yachts in the marina and, closer, the blue and gold and white planes floating in rows, peaceful and still. 

There was a Cactus Club at Jack Poole Plaza, and Andrew was hungry. “How about here?”

“Wherever you want.”

They took a table out on the plaza, where the sun was brightest, and it was only after they’d ordered their meals that Andrew realized what he was staring at. The Olympic cauldron, that most permanent of symbols of the home Olympics they’d missed out on. “Ouch,” he said, nodding at it and trusting that Kaitlyn would get his meaning.

She did, picking up a paper napkin and rolling the edge of it between her fingers. “Yeah. Do you ever wonder - if we’d made it, how things would be different now?”

“I try not to.” Tessa and Scott’s gold, the hockey gold, a home crowd roaring for their names even when those names weren’t Virtue and Moir, the familiar streets of Vancouver come to life with the Olympics: even four years on, even after their own Olympics, he thought that thinking too hard about those things would be bad news, and honestly, maybe, they would have been better off heading for Granville Island.

“Yeah. Same. I guess - we have to believe everything happens for a reason, right?”

“Right,” Andrew said, just to agree with her.

“I miss you,” Kaitlyn said, changing topic with all of her usual subtlety. She seemed to realize that she was about to tear the napkin and put it down. “I could say I haven’t been avoiding you but - I have. Waste of time, I know.”

“I don’t blame you,” Andrew said, feeling slightly offended all the same.

“I should have talked to you earlier. I just needed some space, I needed some clear air, I needed to feel like my own person again instead of just a half of something.”

“You are.”

“Sometimes it’s easy to forget that. Weapo,” she said, and grinned. “I do miss you. It’s funny how we can spend so much time together and not - ”

“Be together?” Andrew said, when it didn’t seem likely she was going to finish that sentence. 

“Yeah. I do - I need you. As friends or - whatever. So I’m sorry. I was pushing you away trying to get back in my own head but I ended up even further away. I’m thinking about a lot. Processing a lot. I’m sorry for kicking you out.”

Andrew couldn’t deal with _whatever_ and he couldn’t deal with her apologizing to him. “The future,” he said, as firmly, as cheerfully as he could manage, a reminder to both of them.

“I know,” Kaitlyn said. “We’ll find our time.”

“I wish…” Andrew said, looking at her familiar, beautiful face. But that was dangerous, and so he did everything he could to stop wishing.

Their meals arrived then. They leaned away from each other; sat back in their seats.

“Yours looks nice,” Kaitlyn said, with a critical eye.

Andrew shook his fork at her. They’d lost each other for a bit and now they’d found each other again, best friends and whatever lay beyond. “Mine,” he said, and inched his plate a little further away from her.

She pouted.

He liked it.

*

And then somehow, without him noticing it, it was bright hot summer and they were packing for Capri, leaving behind almost-finished programmes, the lilt of the Four Seasons and the drama of the paso. Kaitlyn was choosing bikinis and sundresses, flitting room to room with heaps of coloured fabric like some kind of butterfly, and the excitement she left behind her was hard to shake.

They were going back to Europe, and that would help.

*

Capri was everything he’d never known he wanted, sunshine somehow warmer and brighter than at home, houses tucked into cliffsides and the inescapable feeling of island life. The day they arrived they checked into their AirBnB around lunchtime, a few hours before Valentina was due to join them and went almost straight into the village in search of lunch. Andrew thought he could have used Vale’s Italian skills or at least a map; without her, he had to follow along behind Kaitlyn and hope her confidence was based in reality. He was exhausted. They’d flown from Detroit to Paris and Paris to Naples and taken the ferry to Capri and he’d been awake longer than he cared to remember. He promised himself he’d try to hang in there until 8pm and wondered if that was even possible.

They made it to the piazzetta, the town square, without too many wrong turns, which seemed to suggest that he should have more faith in Kaitlyn’s abilities to face a brand new world head on.

“Andrew,” Kaitlyn whispered, grabbing his hand, tugging him sideways so that they stood against the wall of a tiny store. “Look.”

“I’m looking.” Andrew was still holding her hand, which was an all-encompassing sort of feeling, but he was looking, too. Looking up at the clock tower standing tall over the square, at the bustling crowds, the tiny cafe tables dotted about the place.

Kaitlyn was breathing hard and it wasn’t from the walk. Andrew gripped her hand tighter for his own benefit as much as hers.

“Okay?” he asked.

“Yeah. I… yeah. I needed this, I think.” She blinked and then the confidence was back, his bright eyed best friend. “I’m making a rule.”

“Oh. Are you?”

“Yeah. I have to eat real food before I can have gelato. Even if it’s pizza.”

“Pizza is real food.” Andrew thought about it some more. “So’s gelato.”

“Um. I don’t know. But let’s go find some pizza before my tummy explodes.”

“What, of emptiness?”

“Just explodes,” Kaitlyn said, and led him out across the square.

*

That was their life for a few quiet days: eating and sleeping, drinking wine, exploring on foot and and by bus, the two of them and Valentina falling into an easy kind of routine. Andrew didn’t often use the word _magical_ but it was.

It so was.

*

Five days into their stay Vale had gone back to Milan for the night for a family event and it was just the two of them like it had been that first day, exploring a new place hand in hand. They had lunch in a park and a long, lingering dinner in a local restaurant, listening to the waves rolling and breaking against the cliff.

Kaitlyn was wearing a cream coloured dress, her hair draped over one shoulder in a long loose braid, and from time to time the sparkle of candlelight in her eyes left Andrew lost, unsure of time or place. She’d almost gone back to change before they left for dinner, complaining that maybe she was undressed, but she wasn’t. She was as beautiful as he’d ever seen her: forget the elaborate skating costumes, the banquets, the dresses with price tags that made him wince. “You look fine,” he’d said, trying _not_ to look at her, worried that if she went back and changed her dress and put her hair up they’d miss their reservation.

It was an understatement and he knew it and he hoped she did.

Now, over dinner, she was talking about next season, about making their debut at Nebelhorn. “I heard Madi and Evan were entering.”

She’d told him that before they left. “I know.”

“Katia and Dima too.”

“I know.”

“Are you nervous?”

“What? About Nebelhorn?”

“Mmm,” Kaitlyn said. “About everything?”

Andrew had been about to finish off his wine. He put his glass down again. “What’s this about?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes I just… I feel like this season is make or break. It’s going to be a totally different dynamic and I want us to be right up there.”

“We’re world silver medallists,” Andrew said, as much because he wanted to remind himself as because he thought it might help her.

“I know. But it takes more than one medal.”

“It’s not just about the medals though.”

“I know. It’s not. I know.” Kaitlyn put her head in her hands for a moment and then looked up at him. “Sorry. We were having a gorgeous night and I’m ruining it.”

“You are not.”

“Sometimes I think you just like arguing with me for the hell of it.”

“I mean it,” Andrew said. “And I’m not arguing. You couldn’t ruin anything.”

Kaitlyn drank the last of her wine and looked at him with her clear, direct eyes. “Let’s talk about something else.”

Andrew thought of all the things he’d like to say. “I like the wine,” he said at random, deciding that was better than the alternative.

“Are you going to finish that, then?”

“Yes.”

He did, and they made their way back to the small house where they were staying in a peaceful silence. “Tired?” he asked, unlocking the door.

“No.”

“Me neither.”

There was a balcony off the upstairs landing. By some mutual agreement they took another bottle of wine - they'd acquired a few - and two glasses and sat out there, looking out at the sea and the stars. Andrew’s mind filled with a thousand thoughts, a hundred cheesy pick-up lines that he wouldn’t use on any girl, much less his best friend.

The woman he loved. There was no denying that and there never had been.

Kaitlyn got up, her movement disturbing his peace simply because, as focused as he'd been on her, he hadn’t been expecting it. She leaned against the railing, her back towards him, her dress flapping a little about her legs in the breeze.

She was magnetic north, and Andrew was powerless to go in any other direction. Drawn towards her, inescapable, unresisting, he got up as well and went to stand beside her. “Hey.”

“Hi.” Kaitlyn rubbed the rail, wrought-iron and painted white, with her fingertips. She wasn’t looking at the sea now but at him and if there was going to be a battle Andrew was ready to admit defeat. “Wow.”

“What?”

She breathed in. “All the talking. All the - everything. Andrew, what are we doing?”

“I don’t know,” he said, because this wasn’t the time for jokes. “I think - I don’t know. Are we drunk?”

“Not on wine.”

“No.” He was still losing. Andrew lifted a hand, brushed a bit of hair back behind her hair, felt the warmth, the familiar softness of her skin. “Do you think I was wrong?”

“That day at home?”

“Yeah.”

“You know I do. Not that it’s not important, not that we shouldn’t be careful, but I think that if we both know what we want we should go for it and fight for what’s important.”

“Yeah. This… skating… this isn’t skating.”

“I’ve noticed. I think the most important question is do you think you were wrong?”

Andrew said nothing, holding onto the last of his common sense and his pride and the way the feel of skin seemed to be hanging around on his fingertips.

Kaitlyn sighed, and down below them the waves crashed on. There’d be a day when this cliff wasn’t here any more, the house and everything with it gone into the sea. But of course the people would likely be gone long before then. “Then what are you doing?”

“I don’t know. Remember Calgary?” Andrew asked, on impulse, trying to bring this conversation back onto the topic of what was _safe_. They’d made a nice mess last time around and that had begun in Calgary.

“It was pretty memorable.”

“We were so young.” 

“What even started it, do you remember?”

“Wasn’t there a plane thing? We thought we were going to die. That was how we even ended up in Calgary in the first place. On the way home from Canadians in Vancouver.”

“Yeah,” she said, shaking her head just the tiniest bit. “I meant what started the other thing. You and me. But maybe that was it. The plane.”

“Maybe.” Andrew stopped, thought about what he was saying. “I already - I mean, I already had a thing for you.”

“Me too. And I convinced myself it would never happen, you’d never be interested in me, and then suddenly it was like no, wait, am I dreaming, or is this really - is he really - ”

“I really,” Andrew said, in response to the things she wasn’t saying. “That whole night was - first time, and all that.”

“In a twin bed in an average little hotel by the airport. There were more hearts and flowers in my imagination when I… was imagining.”

One day they’d be in a place where he could ask for more details on that. “It was good though.”

“Yeah. I mean, let’s be real, the sex was pretty average, but for a pair of clueless virgins we did pretty well.”

“We did good,” Andrew said, in mostly mock indignation. Her recollection was pretty different from his. “I remember it being pretty awesome, actually.”

Kaitlyn patted his arm. She might have been laughing at him. “It was probably better for you than for me, let’s be real. But you were - I’m glad it was you.”

“You did enjoy it though, right?” Andrew had gone from indignation to worry, because it _had_ been pretty good for him and he’d thought she was enjoying herself, even though in retrospect, yeah, he'd been pretty clueless about the female body.

“I did. More - more emotional than physical, maybe? Just finally being with you when I’d wanted it for so long. Although the physical side got better very quickly.”

“Probably because we were having sex like crazed bunnies. Lots of practice.”

“What an image.”

“Sorry,” Andrew said. “That was gross.”

“A bit.” Kaitlyn was looking at him now, one elbow still propped up on the railing. “Guess I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately.”

“I’m a guy,” Andrew said, meaning it to be more lighthearted than _me too_.

“Tell me about it.”

“I could try.”

“I bet you could.”

He wondered if that was supposed to be an invitation. 

If she was flirting with him.

If he was flirting with her.

If the world would end before his brain fell out his ears, which might be a relief. “What are we doing?”

“I asked first. And, honestly, Andrew, I know what I want. I love you. I just… I need you to make up your mind.”

Andrew said the only thing he could say. “I love you.”

“I know you do. But that’s not what this is about. I got carried away before. I can’t live in this in between place. Either we’re best friends or we’re lovers. So, I guess, it’s all or nothing.” She stood up straight and turned away from the sea. “I don’t want to put you on the spot. And I don’t want to rush you into anything you aren't ready for. But - no more games. I’ll be in my room.” Her voice cracked and shattered as she was talking, and then she was gone.

Andrew stood alone in the darkness she left behind and then made his way on shaky legs to the chair he’d been sitting in before. One minute they’d been talking about sex and the next she was gone and he was pretty sure that this, like almost everything else, was his fault.

He’d tried a pros and cons list once and he’d never managed to do anything with it but now, right now, if he had one, the pro would be ‘make Kaitlyn happy’ and the con would be ‘possibly affect skating, making Kaitlyn unhappy.’

It was a definite against a possible, and forewarned was forearmed, and maybe they could ward off that con. They were older and wiser than they’d been back in Calgary, in Toronto. Things would go better this time around.

Also, he really wanted to kiss her and see the shine in her eyes.

And he missed her.

And he loved her.

And she deserved more than this.

Andrew looked up into the night sky and knew he’d made up his mind. He stood, his legs a little more determined than they had been moments ago, and went inside. His footsteps sounded loud on the wooden floor and there was light gleaming from under her door.

Andrew held his breath, and knocked.

“Come in.”

He came. She was sitting on her bed, still in the cream dress, but with her braid gone and a hairbrush in her hand. From the look on her face there had possibly been a few stray tears getting involved in things. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Can I say something?”

“I hope so. Please don’t stand quietly in my room all night. That would be creepy.”

“It definitely would. Um. So. I want you to be happy. And I know that medals make you happy. And I’ve been so sure that being with you would put that at risk.”

“I’m not that shallow. It’s not all about the medals.”

“I didn’t mean it that way. But the look on your face in Saitama - it was incredible.”

Kaitlyn nodded, slowly. “I get what you’re saying. I do. And I did, last time you told me this. But you know what you haven’t said?”

“What?”

“You haven’t told me what Andrew wants. In all of this you’re focused on me and that’s incredible but there are two people here and Kaitlyn wants to know what Andrew wants.”

“Why are you talking about yourself in the third person?”

“Why are you stalling?”

Andrew sat down on her bed, maintaining a safe distance. The truth hurt. “I want to be with you.”

“Okay.”

“I want to be with you and I want you to be happy.”

“Do you want to wait four years before we take a risk?”

“No.”

“Me neither. So tell me what you want.”

“You. Us.”

“So then look at the part of you that tells you you’re being selfish to risk my career and kick it in the balls.”

“What?” Andrew asked, the conversation twisting unexpectedly.

“You’re trying to sacrifice your own happiness for mine and making me miserable in the process and please accept that I’m all grown up and I can make my own choices. And I choose you, and if you mention Pokemon right now I will throw a pillow at your head.”

She would, too. She had a hand on a pillow in preparation. 

“I don’t know how to say this.”

“What?”

“Yes,” Andrew said, with a rush of breath. “Yes. If it’s all or nothing I want it all.”

He watched her face as the joy came.

“Are you sure?” 

“I’ve never been more sure of anything. Ever. I love you, remember?”

“I know.” Kaitlyn reached out a hand. Andrew stepped forward, took it, let her pull him in until he stood in front of her. For a moment the world narrowed: there was the two of them, the sound of her breath and of waves on rocks, the softness of her skin where their hands joined. He made himself feel every inch and every second of it: not a dream but his, and her, reality.

“Kiss me,” she whispered.

He’d spent weeks making her miserable with the best of intentions and maybe she was making the most of her position now but he wasn’t going to object to a bit of bossiness, especially when it was going to make the most perfect of moments even more perfect. He leaned in and kissed her, aiming for slowness but failing drastically because they had a few years’ worth of kissing to make up for and she tasted like wine and her hand was in his hair. They went over sideways onto her bed, feet dangling over the edge and her hair falling over her face.

Andrew found a moment to stop and breathe and tuck her hair back behind her ear, letting his fingers trail across the smooth warm skin of her cheek. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, the words coming as easy as the exhale.

Kaitlyn made the face that meant she was thinking, and for a moment Andrew regretted having interrupted some very good kissing with words. “Sorry for doing what you thought was the right thing?”

“Sorry for making you sad. Sorry for what we missed out on.” He was sorry for a lot of things, really, but that pretty much encapsulated it.

“You’re forgiven. I get it.” And then, because she was some kind of saint and he really didn’t deserve her, Kaitlyn leaned in and kissed him again.

*

They hadn’t closed the curtains and so Andrew woke to sunlight on his face and Kaitlyn’s naked body entwined with his. She was still asleep, her face against his chest as the light crept towards it.

Way down below them the sea was washing against the cliff. He could just hear the sound of it over Kaitlyn’s breathing, and could just smell the salt air, and if he could stop time at any moment in his lifetime it might be this one utterly perfect, romantic moment. Instead he rubbed her back, waiting for the inevitable moment she stretched against him. “Did I dream it?” she asked, her voice somewhat unintelligible, a mumble he might not have been unable to understand if he didn’t know her so well.

“No.”

“Good.”

She pushed herself up, bringing her face above his. She was beaming. “That was fun.”

That was one way of putting it. Andrew found himself smiling in response, and then they were both giggling as she brought her lips down to kiss him again. “I love you,” he whispered, over and over again, his lips moving against hers, against her hair, against her skin. “I love you.”

*

An hour, or two hours, or three later he left her there in bed, pulled on his boxers, and went downstairs in search of the water they both quite badly needed. His brain was upstairs with Kaitlyn and maybe that was why he didn’t hear the front door opening as he filled two big glasses with water and turned, a glass in each hand.

Valentina was standing behind him.

It was only luck and quick reflexes that stopped him from dropping the glasses. “Hello,” he says, at once taking in the fact that they’d completely forgotten about Valentina, that he was only wearing his underwear, and that he was holding an awful lot of water for one person.

Vale _raised her eyebrows_ at him. “Where’s Kaitlyn?”

Andrew indicated upstairs with his glasses of water.

“Should I come back later?”

“Um,” Andrew said, wishing Kaitlyn was here to handle this situation with more diplomacy than what he was capable of. “Maybe,” he said, making the effort to be polite when he’d rather just be honest.

Valentina was _smirking_ now. She leaned forward and patted him on the forearm. “Good boy. See you in a few hours.”

Andrew watched her go and then made his way upstairs, desperately hoping he wasn’t blushing too hard. Kaitlyn was up and sort of dressed, brushing her hair in front of the mirror in panties and a tank. “Was that Vale?” she asked, taking one of the glasses from his hand and downing half of it in what seemed like one long swallow.

“Yeah.”

“Shoot.”

“Yeah.”

Kaitlyn finished the rest of her water and set the glass down on the dresser. “Do you think she knows?”

“I would say so.”

“Well, I guess she’s not going to tell anyone.” Kaitlyn came over and set her head on his shoulder and Andrew put his arms around her, letting the world slip away for a moment. “I just wish we’d had more time to figure this out for ourselves before everyone else found out.”

“Everyone else isn’t finding out. Not yet.”

“Mmmm.” Kaitlyn kissed his collarbone, and then she lifted her head to look him in the eyes. “Are you happy?”

Andrew tightened his arms around her and thought about love and sunshine and champagne and having this for the rest of his life. “Of course,” he said. “You’re here. How could I be anything else?”


End file.
